


There He Is

by CaptainTarthister



Series: From Across the Room [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jaime is an asshole, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime calls in favors. Brienne confronts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There He Is

Rated M for some language.

 

Brienne Tarth’s most unexpected rejection put a little shake in Jaime’s step the next day. He did wake up refreshed and looking at the mirror confirmed that there was nothing about him that should even get a no. Somehow, it had. And it was the ugly blond giant who committed that damnded atrocity. Of all women far more beautiful, a lot more pleasant, much, much sweeter, it was the red-faced, sugar-smelling, limp-haired, sapphire-eyed wench who rejected him. 

He liked the sound of that. _Wench._ He had a feeling he would be using it on her soon.

He whistled a jaunty, old tune, The Bear and The Maiden Fair, as he took the elevator from his penthouse down to the lobby. He nodded at the doorman on his way out. Still, whistling, he strolled past the revolving doors and out onto the sidewalk, his emerald eyes warm and the smile on his face self-important and smug. 

He glanced at his watch. His car would be arriving any minute.

“You!” Shouted a deep, angry voice from his right. Turning, he saw Brienne Tarth, who should be the object of his nightmares but slowly turning out to be the source of fantasies. Despite only the minimal wind, it looked like her straw-blond hair had gone for a wild ride. Bright, sapphire eyes stood out from her heavily-freckled face as she stormed toward him, an ugly curl in her mouth and looking very much like some animal escapee from the zoo. 

“Brienne Tarth, a good morning to you,” Jaime greeted her too pleasantly when she reached him. She clearly had not been baking—yet—but his nose detected the familiar scent of sugar coming off her skin. He smiled at her. “What can I do for you this morning?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me as if you’ve done nothing wrong,” Brienne snarled. Jaime had to bite back a laugh. He couldn’t recall ever riling up a woman like this, nor getting any response similar to this. “You—you—you asshole—you called off my suppliers!”

“Wench—may I call you that—well, _wench_ —“

“My name,” Brienne hissed, “is Brienne.”

Jaime cocked an eyebrow meant to infuriate her even more. She didn’t have much going for her looks-wise but she was _fucking magnificent_ in her anger. He could just lick her up. “Do you deny your sex? Then drop those pants and show me.” He didn’t pretend distaste at her loose, black plaid shirt and baggy pants. He liked the skinny jeans better. 

He was rewarded with a full-on blush that exploded from hairline to her throat. “Why the hell did you call off my suppliers?”

“I did not call them off, wench.” Jaime told her. Gods, the nickname suited her and tasted sweet on his tongue. “Merely reminded them that their outstanding loans were due and it didn’t look like they’ll even be paying half of it when the deadline falls. So I may have hinted that if they suspended your orders, Casterly Loan & Trust would be more than happy to extend it.”

This time, Jaime regretted his words. Tyrion told him it was a cruel plan. Jaime had stubbornly insisted it would work. Nothing was more satisfying than beating down Brienne Tarth. His ego was bruised and his record tarnished. From the way she was glaring at him, she would also be fixing up his face and ensure he would be uglier than her. She definitely had the hands for it, he thought, impressed at their size. 

_“You—you—“_ Brienne sputtered in disbelief. _“You blackmailed my suppliers so I’d bake a fucking cake for you sister-in-law?”_

“Future sister-in-law. And no, wench, I didn’t blackmail them. I gave them what they needed and they gave me what I wanted. My dear sweet wench, you’re not familiar with backdoor agreements like that, I’m afraid, being that you’re a small business and rely on muffins for a living.”

“I do not,” Brienne enunciated every word, the veins in her thick neck standing out, _“bake muffins.”_

“Cupcakes, muffins, cakes. They’re all made with flour, wench” Jaime said with a careless shrug.

“My suppliers refuse to make the deliveries. You’re endangering my business, Lannister. You’re fucking with the Evenstar!”

“My name,” Jaime snapped. “Is _Jaime.”_

“And mine is Brienne.”

He laughed. “Wench Tarth has a nicer ring to it. And you’re acting like one right now, _wench._ ”

Jaime had to whistle when the familiar, black limousine pulled up. “Ah, here’s my ride to work. Can I drop you off somewhere, wench?” 

Brienne crossed her arms. “You’re insane if you think I’d want to get in there with you.”

“I was thinking we could come to an agreement,” Jaime drawled, “on our way to our work. What say you, wench?”

“Brienne, my name is Brienne!” She practically shrieked.

He nodded, grinning. “Definitely. _Wench._ ”

“If we’re not out in public, Lannister, I would—“

“Whisk me to death? Pound me?” As Jaime spoke, he stepped closer to Brienne until they were practically nose-to-nose. Seven Hells, she did smell like sugar. But not entirely of it, he realized. There were other notes combined with it. Her natural scent. Mixed with the sugar, the result was a scent that wasn’t cloying or too sweet at all but it sure was heady. His cock thought so too. That didn’t surprise Jaime, not really. Cocks reacted to all sorts of stimuli. Unfortunate-looking as Wench Tarth was, she smelled good and the hormones coming off from their sparring was definitely contributing to the strength of her scent. Not to mention it had been a while since he last had sex. He looked in her big, sapphire eyes, marvelling again at their brilliance. He hadn’t been able to get them out of his head since seeing them yesterday.

“I’d put you in the damn oven alive and feed you to the dogs,” Brienne growled.

“I would much prefer being dipped and rolled in chocolate and not fed to the dogs. Come with me, Brienne,” he coaxed her, using her name for the first time. Her real name felt right and sweet too. “You care about your business, right? Then let’s talk. And I promise you, you will get what you want.”

“And what about what you want?”

“I’ll get it too. I certainly need your help.”

“There is no way I can fit in another wedding in my schedule. I don’t have enough staff. And additional equipment that would speed things up.”

“So hire more. Get more.”

Her cheeks turned a lovely pink. “I—I can’t afford them right now.”

He knew. She had a loan with Castamere Bank. From her books, Evenstar Bakery & Café looked pretty solid and had three years before settling their loan. But funds were on the tight side. Business was good but she couldn’t add more staff, let alone more equipment. Not until she’d paid the loan.  
“And even if I can,” she continued, “it doesn’t mean I’ll take on another client. I wasn’t lying when I mentioned we have our hands full.”

“I know that. You’re not the sort to lie. Listen, I haven’t had breakfast yet. It’s usually a bagel at my desk but I’m thinking that this morning, I could use a proper one. On a proper table. Would you join me?”

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. “I afford to feed myself, Lannister—“

“Jaime,” he interrupted.

“—and I refuse to join the man who’s destroying my business for anything. You blackmailed my suppliers. Only desperate, foolish men, _men without honor,_ resort to that. You have power over my suppliers, but I know how to play this game too.” Brienne tilted her chin up, despite being taller. “There’s no way you’re beating me, Lannister.” 

And she turned away, leaving Jaime to stare after her with his mouth hanging open.

“Seven Bloody Hells,” he muttered, shaking his head. A smile began to tug at the corners of his lips. “She said no again.” 

But she was not having the last word this time. 

“Wench!” And sure enough, she turned. Jaime laughed at the annoyance that crossed her face as she realized what she just did. “I’ll see you soon, like it or not!” 

The next time she did, he vowed, she would no longer question his honor. Damn her.

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about baking or running a restaurant. Putting this out there before someone calls my attention to it. :-) These all come from my imagination. But, but, but, throw some comments my way!


End file.
